Obsession by Claire Lorrimer Read Free Book Online Page A

the Reverend Hobson and his tiresome wife to dinner. On coming out of church two Sundays ago, I was cornered by the unctuous Hobson, saying that he and his wife had seen so little of you these past weeks they were really looking forward to calling on us again.’ Brook laughed mischievously. ‘It was an obvious hint to be invited to tea or something! I felt obliged to ask them to dine with us.’
    He smiled at her tenderly. ‘However, I have been so concerned about having to leave you – and I was certain you, too, do not feel up to facing their company, so it is to be hoped the good Lord will forgive me for telling the poor fellow that we are obliged to postpone any further invitation because now our cook and three of the staff are indisposed with an infection whose name I had forgotten!’
    ‘Brook, that is very naughty of you!’ Harriet said, laughing. ‘Just suppose you were married to Mrs Hobson, you would be as bored as he most probably is by her endless complaints about their parishioners. And I, myself, would be even less well able to tolerate his incessant biblical quotations. The two of them were probably greatly looking forward to a change from each other’s conversation. Besides, Brook, sooner or later we shall have to have them here.’
    Brook returned her smile. ‘But not for some considerable time, my darling, as I won’t be here with you to receive them.’ His smile faded. ‘You are not too unhappy about my going away?’ he enquired.
    Harriet had vowed on her wedding day never to lie to him or deceive him, but now, suddenly, she knew that if she truly loved him, she must do so.
    ‘Please don’t concern yourself, Brook,’ she said quietly. ‘I have recovered from the shock, and Bessie will help me find a way to pass the time. If the weather stays fine I shall pay calls upon our distant neighbours who all left their cards whilst I was indisposed. That will certainly keep me busy! Twelve weeks is not so very long, is it? You will be home before the summer is over.’
    ‘You should call on Denning and his sister!’ he suggested. ‘Paul was most concerned for you when I took him to see the new automatic pheasant feeders the other day. His sister sent that extravagant hamper of fruit, most of which I think I ate!’
    Hearing Harriet laugh, Brook breathed a sigh of relief. He had been minding Harriet’s distress at his forthcoming departure far more even than his own. As Harriet had pointed out, he would not be leaving her for very long and their reunion would be the greatest joy.
    His thoughts were interrupted by the footman announcing that dinner was served. Taking Harriet’s arm, he led her into the brightly lit dining room not doubting that the evening would end with him showing her, in other ways, how much a husband could love his wife.

FOUR
1865
    H arriet was counting the days until Brook’s likely return but as yet she had had no letter advising her of the date. When at last a letter arrived with the breakfast tray Bessie now always brought her in the mornings, she was so happy to see it she nearly knocked the tray over as she waved the letter in the air. Her eyes shining, she scanned the first page. Bessie’s smiles as she looked at her young mistress’ excited face changed to alarm as she saw the colour leave Harriet’s cheeks and her hands holding the letter start to tremble,
    ‘The master’s not ill, is he?’ she asked anxiously.
    Harriet shook her head. Tears now trembled on her cheeks as she whispered, ‘He isn’t coming home … not yet … not for weeks and weeks …’ She broke off, the tears of disappointment now flowing. Bessie removed the breakfast tray from her lap and handed Harriet a handkerchief.
    ‘Don’t upset yourself so!’ she said. ‘The master wouldn’t want to see you crying like this!’
    Harriet blew her nose. ‘I know, Bessie!’ she whispered. ‘But he won’t be coming home for MONTHS …’ Her voice rose. ‘Not for four months – maybe even